James M. Hill Memorial High has unexpectedly been hit with a wave of mass immigration, the final destination for many on a long journey from all over the United States after hearing we have a president named Hillary.

A student councilor was quick to add that many are only temporarily relocating to the school so that they can practice running away from their new president on our quarter mile track.

“I like it here, because there’s enough camo wear to just blend in if they come looking for us,” said a new JMH student.

Some Tommies are still wary of the newcomers.

“If you don’t know what a friggin’ poutine is, how can we be sure you share our values?” argued a local hardliner.

“I don’t know man, I just don’t like sharing the breakfast room,” complained one of the skeptics. “A school just ain’t a school without bagels."

"That's not even satire. That's just stupid," critiqued a substitute teacher. "It's like, he thought that was funny, but the catch is, it's totally not."

"Yeah, I feel like people are on board with the whole thing. Funny stuff, right?" observed the plaid-laden buffoon in question.

"Never in my career have I read a piece of writing that I can honestly say is comparable to watching a cat slowly meow, but today, that changed." said Mrs. Corlett.

The reactions come as several teachers and students have openly expressed their dismay with the paper.

"I feel like if I can do class work and make people laugh, that's something really special," the gangly writer states with sentimentality.

"Honest to god, I feel like, after reading this article, that I just went down a water slide without water, and instead I just had to crawl down the slide until I got to the bottom," a disheartened grade 10 student says recounting their experience reading the piece.

After a fatally awkward encounter as two people rounded a corner and met face to face, struggled to pass by and then speedwalked away from the scene, the Student Council has been pushed by various lobby groups to institute trained traffic directors.

“It’s nice to feel like these halls are safe again,” admits one grade 10 student.

“Yeah, now when someone walks really slow and I’m stuck behind them, the traffic directors just say all the evil, horrific things that I’m thinking!” adds a nearby friend.

The move has, however, been met with its critics.

Said one skeptic, “I get the walking and running lanes, but what is a ‘Kierstead-mobile’ and why is there a lane for it specifically?”

Obviously, they were shunned.

Despite the mixed reception, most are admitting their support for mirrors being strategically installed on all doors in the school to avoid entering a room at the exact moment someone else is leaving.

“You might be having a dandy day, and then something like that happens. Do you stop and apologize? Try to make a joke out of it? Do you make eye contact with the person you accidentally almost threw against a wall? Do you even acknowledge that that just happened? Turn around and scream for precisely 11 seconds? There’s just no way to come out of that unscathed,” explains the head of an anti-hallway awkwardness activist group.

The room is explosive in noise and joyous in spirit. Harmonized choirs sing, children rejoice and men and women speak sweet words of chanted celebration; where else but the gymnasium at James M. Hill Memorial High.

“Things haven’t quite been the same since the cookie,” confirms a Grade 12 student. “I thought I’d never see him again,” he attempts to continue, but behind him a preacher graciously explodes; “Yet, here we are! 2016! Year of the chocolate chip!”

This has been the scene at JMH since last week, when a student claimed he saw the face of Former JMH Principal, Mr. Kierstead, in a large cookie from the cafeteria.

There have been reports that MVHS students are throwing rocks inscribed with messages over the 15 foot high wall recently finished around the Newcastle school under the guidance of the JMH Student council. ‘Let us see the cool stuff,’ reads one. ‘This is honestly just really mean,’ says another.

“People started coming from all over to see the cookie. Bernice MacNaughton, Oromocto High, Kenebecasis Valley- are these even real places?” inquires our field reporter.

When reached for comment, the baker at the time admitted, “To be honest, I think I just burned the cookie a little bit.”

Many Tommies are still feeling the effects of the disappearance of a commercial liner carrying 34 students to their desired lunch food last Thursday. The ship reportedly departed at 11:45 and went off into the distance amongst the sea of students in the line, not to be seen since.

“I’m worried and all, but I find comfort in the idea that wherever they are, they likely found those huge, delicious cookies they were looking for,” said a friend of one of the passengers.

“It’s hard to focus when you keep hearing flares being shot all throughout class,” complains a Grade 11 student.

The ship disappeared after a rough day at sea forced her into the infamous Lunch Line Triangle, a mysterious area where several Lunch liners disappeared in the 1870s while on a mass expedition to find the legendary ‘Land of Many Garlic Fingers’.

“Every time we manage to get out onto the water, about half of our people forget where they are and abandon ship to grab a soft taco and fruit snacks,” laments the head of the search party. “Everyone is hungry and sad. I guess there’s some stuff even baked potato chips can’t fix.”

“What I’m wondering…” begins a local pundit, “Is why a ship was sent out when the line was thataggressive. I mean, the waves of students were 25 feet high. There has to be a better way.”

The search party continues to innovate in new ways to find the ship, most recently with ‘All You Can Eat Chicken Burgers’ signs. “Surely that’ll bring them swimming back to shore,” a member of the search party enthusiastically asserts.

During third period, a student’s voice cracked while answering an open question on ‘To Kill a Mockingbird’. In the middle of his sentence, he paused, and then continued on after realizing no one batted an eyelash.

“I’m not really concerned,” he reports. “I don’t think it was that bad. I mean, it wasn’t super loud or anything. It was just a little hiccup. I barely even noticed it.”

So I could get the full story, I asked some of his classmates about the incident.

“Oh, it was horrifying. I thought someone just stepped on a cat or something,” reported one classmate. “Yeah, like if you can picture a trumpet, just with all of the things that make a trumpet good taken away, that was it,” a nearby peer chimed in.

“He’d be a good kid if his voice cracks didn’t sound like a car starting up and then miserably failing in the dead cold of January,” says the teacher instructing at the time of the incident.

According to Mrs. Ryder, the administration plans to bring him in for a meeting to deal with his painful and insufferable voice sometime soon.